


High Hopes Rook's Gonna Die Nagar

by Goldstone_Wolf



Series: High Hopes Low (Blank) [48]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), High Hopes Low Rolls (Web Series)
Genre: Blizzards, F/M, He's adorable, Hypothermia, Nagar is a puppy and loves Rook but platonically, Near Death Experiences, probably some more stuff I'm missing, tws for:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26291047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf
Summary: Nagar and Rook are in trouble. They’ve been wandering through an icy forest for the better part of three days with no food, no water, and minimal shelter. Of course, Nagar is fine with it. Dragonborns are tough and scaly and strong enough to withstand whatever comes their way.The problem is, he’s forgetting one very important thing: Rook isn’t a dragonborn.
Relationships: Rook Lunera & Nagar (High Hopes Low Rolls), Rook Lunera/Gwing Veloce
Series: High Hopes Low (Blank) [48]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692196
Kudos: 5





	High Hopes Rook's Gonna Die Nagar

**Author's Note:**

> TWs will be in tags. This is mostly practice for a scene that I’ve drafted out for something else. I’m just testing different character dynamics. Anyways, please enjoy and please have fun!  
> Now, let’s begin.

They’d been wandering around for days, and Rook didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

Up ahead, Nagar was striding on, perfectly comfortable in the snow. He was built for it, of course he was comfortable with it. Meanwhile, Rook was about as comfortable in the snow as a featherless chicken would be in a den of hungry…what had he been talking about?

“Rook, ve are so close to the village! I cannot vait to show you vat it is like!” Nagar cheerfully said up ahead, snapping Rook out of his thoughts. When the white dragonborn glanced back, Rook smiled softly at him. Returning it with puppy-like cheer, Nagar kept blazing on ahead. For the moment, Rook was using the massive dragonborn’s footsteps to keep walking. Some small part of him was worried about how cold it was—a snowstorm was raging around them, and he had a sinking feeling it was only going to get worse before it got better. Rubbing his shoulders, he kept his head down and felt frost biting at the back of his neck where his hair and cloak didn’t cover his skin.

_Good thing Zenya isn’t here yet._ He mused, thinking of how his little pseudodragon was probably curled up in Nala’s fur as Gwing read a book by the fireplace. Maybe Gwing would be talking with Paddy, or with Torlin and Gimgar. Laughing with the dwarves and talking to Paddy about his days in the travelling carnival. The wood elf was certainly one of the interesting people Rook had ever seen, with that mysterious mask of his and the autumn leaves making up his cloak. When he got back, Rook needed to ask him how that worked.

His stomach stabbed him in the torso rather angrily, and he crossed his arms over his body and sucked in a breath. They’d run out of supplies on the first day, after a blizzard had forced them to walk over a frozen lake. They’d crashed into it, and Nagar had managed to pull Rook out before much damage was done, but they had lost all of their food and most of what they would have to use to make a fire.

Coughing, Rook winced when he realised he could feel something growing deep in his chest. Hopefully, it wasn’t anything too bad, _It’s nothing but a cold, Rook. You’ll be perfectly fine. You’ll get to the town and then you’ll be able to eat and hang out by a fire and send a message to Gwing and the others so they’re not so worried._

As he played around with the idea of food, he had to blink and shake his head a couple times to let himself come back to his own body. Everything kept fading in and out, and he wasn’t sure why. His chest was starting to ache, and he had to tell himself it was a cold. It was just a cold, he was fine, he could handle a cold. “Hey, Nagar, maybe we should slow down!” He called out, realising that Nagar hadn’t heard him. Before he could call out again, he realised that _he_ could barely hear his own voice. His throat was beyond hoarse, and he touched his throat with icy fingers. Grimacing, he jerked his hand away and then blew on them. He’d lost his gloves and now he was paying the price—the tips of his fingers were red and he could barely feel them. _Okay, Rook, everything’s going to be fine._ Blowing on his fingers, he shoved them in his pockets.

They had stopped mostly at night, and Rook had spent a couple hours by the fire each time during his watch to warm up his fingers and feet. His boots were not doing him any favours and he knew it, but it was better to have some protection than none at all. He’d handle it, he’d just have to let some doctor know when they got a village. When they got to where they were going.

Where were they going, again?

_Come on, Rook, you need to stay in the moment. Focus._ Stumbling along in Nagar’s footsteps, he glanced up. When he couldn’t find the dragonborn, his heart nearly stopped. “Nagar?” The name hurt his throat and barely got past the tip of his freezing nose. “Nagar!”

He couldn’t breathe all of a sudden, and he glanced around and sucked in a few panicked breaths. Looking around in a panic, he shook his head and then touched his head. _You’re fine, everything’s fine, you just need to keep walking and find him, Rook._ Panting, he kept walking forwards, eyes burning in the corners of his eyes, and he looked around in a panic. _Please. Please, Nagar, where are you?_

Touching his neck as he moved, he realised that breathing hurt in his chest and his throat. The snow around him swirled, Everything around him was white, white, white. White and nothing else that he could see, sparkling and blank and shaded with grey but not enough for him to make out very much. Sucking in a breath, he felt a sob rattle through his chest.

He started stumbling through the barren, snow-freckled landscape around him. He couldn’t see anything of note, and the tears burning down his cheeks weren’t helping either. He was lost. He was lost and no one would find them. There was nothing he could do he would never find Nagar again and no one would find him he was lost he was _lost_ he—

“Crown of Madness.” Someone murmured behind him, and he spun around to see an older woman with grey-streaked brown hair looking at him. She was holding out a hand, blue bursts of snowflakes dancing from her palm out to him and swirling around her head. One of them touched his nose, and then he realised that he had no chance of fighting back as the snowflake burst into blue sparkles.

Groaning, he felt everything start to fade out, and his body decided it was time to sleep. Someone’s hands caught him, and he was lifted up. Somewhere in the back, he could hear a sound like a cat’s meow, but a thousand times deeper. Fur brushed against his cheek and he heard a soft grunt, and when he opened his eyes he realised he was slumped against someone he didn’t know. The woman was wearing a fur-lined jacket, which was what was pressing against his face. Beneath them, however, was a massive grey tabby cat.

Before he could think anything of it, he fell into the depths of unconsciousness.

+++

When he woke up, he was lying on his back in a bed.

_This happens way too much,_ he mused, groaning and reaching up to touch his head. Somewhere else in the room, someone—probably Nagar—was pacing. Rook cracked his eyes open and looked to the side, smiling softly when he saw the white dragonborn really was in the room. Sitting on a chair beside him was the chonkiest cat that Rook had ever seen. It was a grey tabby, and he had a feeling that if it had been a pseudodragon then it might have been chonkier than Zenya was (which was saying something, Zenya was a chonker). When Rook looked over at it, the tabby blinked bright green eyes at him and then got up to pad away, meowing at Nagar.

The white dragonborn turned to look at Rook, yellow-green eyes widening like full moons. “Rook! You are okay!”

“Yeah, I’m…I’m okay.” Sitting up with the dragonborn’s help, Rook glanced up at him. Tears were rolling down Nagar’s white snout, and Rook touched his jaw. “Hey, I’m fine. It’s not your fault. See? I’m fine.”

Nagar started wailing.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it is the same old lady and chonker of a cat as from “High Hopes Oh Heck”. She travels quite a bit, I guess.   
> Anyways, I hope you have a lovely day. Y’all are loved and appreciated and awesome and amazing, stay frosty my dudes.  
> I will see you in the next fic, so—into the fray once more!


End file.
